I'm making THE soup
how this chicken soup with jammy onions became a staple comfort dish, and other thoughts this week.
It all began sometime before (or during? TBH it’s all a blur) the vortex that was the year 2020. I don’t remember exactly how or when, but two recipes surfaced from Bon Appetit that my girlfriends and I decided to make. The first recipe was o.k., but when Tiffany and I made THE chicken soup with jammy onions recipe, our lives literally changed forever. Developed by Andy Baraghani, the recipe is incredibly straightforward. With only a few simple ingredients that you likely already have in your pantry—salt, chicken thighs, turmeric, red lentils, onions, and garlic—this soup somehow transforms into the most rich, layered, earthy, and delicious dish you will probably ever eat. It is literally a hug from the inside, and we were obsessed. Over the course of that winter, Tiff and I would text every few weeks or so to announce when we were making THE soup, creating a craving for the text receiver strong enough that it had to be satiated.
I wonder why I go to this recipe so often. Perhaps it is the fact that it came into my life at the right time—a moment when everything felt upside down and I was dealing with a difficult bout of depression, or perhaps going to get groceries for complex recipes felt like a chore during a time where everything feels like pure chaos. One thing I knew I needed to survive were activities and shortcuts that would take little to no brain power, and this soup is certainly in that category. I introduced it to every friend. I doubled the recipe when Dan inevitably fell in love with it too. I began stockpiling chicken thighs in my freezer so that whenever the craving struck, I would be ready.
Last night, I found myself preparing the soup for the first time this season. Over the weekend, Dan and I went to visit his sister, meeting in a small upstate New York town. After we parted ways, we made a stop to restock those crimson crisp apples we are addicted to (we got the big bag this time). Across the way from the orchard is the chicken farmer Quails R Us that Dan’s mom buys her meat from. We saw the farmer and his wife tending to the coop in the tall grasses. Usually, they request that customers order ahead, but we figured we’d ask if there was any meat. We drove by, rolling down our window and Dan yelled to them. “You wouldn’t happen to have some spare chicken for us to grab, would you?” Turns out they did. So we backed up into the driveway and held our breath because the wind was blowing the smell of chicken sh*t our way. We bought a whole bird and two packs of thighs, knowing one I’d make the soup this week.
Tuesday was a tough day. I’ve been going through some major shifts in my personal life in tandem with the incredibly difficult events unfolding in the world, and all of it has led to me to feeling quite limbo-y. I am winded. As I came to the end of Tuesday, grappling with the guilt of feeling sad while simultaneously aware of how damn lucky and wonderful my life is despite it all, I cried. I absolutely despise eating when I’m sad—I don’t believe it’s healthy to put nourishment into a negatively charged body—but if there is any meal that comes close to a weighted blanket, it’s this one. I spooned the lentils into my mouth with salty tears running down my cheeks, and by the time I finished the bowl, I felt just a little bit better.
I reminded myself that it is completely human to be upset right now, and it is also very okay to generally feel unsettled. After eating the soup, and the following day (yesterday), I reminded myself how important it is to be in the present moment.
I asked myself: What is my immediate reality? Where is my breath? What am I seeing? It has been hard for me to do this knowing that the peaceful autumn skies and quiet air I am so fortunate to be breathing in is not the reality for so many. But from this opportunistic place, I am choosing to fill my cup so that I may pour this vision of peacefulness into the cup of others. I am choosing to spread light even in this darkness, and praying hard for the safety of all.
As my lovely friend and yoga teacher said this past weekend, “don’t forget, sometimes we are here to make the beauty”.
I hope for more beautiful days ahead.
A few things that brought me joy this week:
I limited my time scrolling on Instagram and it was very good for my mental health. I didn’t realize how much tension I was holding in my body because of it.
This beautiful bush I have been watching transform over the past few autumn weeks.
The air filter we finally splurged on. It’s so satisfying to watch it clean the air and constantly monitor the quality.
These little guys signaling the change to cooler months.
I’m currently reading Money: A Love Story, and it is a very good read to establish a strong relationship to one’s self-worth.
The Camp Courage documentary on Netflix. The timing is eerie as this documentary features Ukrainian children and mothers who survived the war, and a camp that aims to support them and let them feel joy once again. I watched this mid-day at my desk and sobbed. It is a worth-it watch for sure. It reminded me that despite how shitty things may feel, we can still find glints of goodness in humanity. We are fantastically imperfect, and we are also resilient. And although I am so disappointed in the inability for us to strike balance in so many ways on this planet, knowing that humans like the ones volunteering with the Mountain Seed Foundation exist makes me feel just a bit better.
“May all the children be happy”. -Camp Courage